


Siberian Recruitment

by miruno



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miruno/pseuds/miruno
Summary: Overwatch has been recalled, and they need new heroes to fight. Will Mercy find what she is looking for in Siberia?
Relationships: Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Siberian Recruitment

**Author's Note:**

> A short writing exercise with a prompt for a conversation between Mercy and Zarya, with Mercy being more the top in the relationship. I imagined them to have had some sort of affair years ago, hopefully it comes out as such!

She never thought business with the reignited Overwatch would lead her all the way to the siberian Russia. It wasn’t anything new that during Overwatch’s peak agents were sent all around the globe, but now things were a bit different. For starters, there was only a handful of them left, with the addition of a few newcomers. That was never going to be enough. Winston had been adamant that new recruits must be found, urgently.

There had been much discussion whether it was a wise to approach someone who had been known to have ties with Volskaya Industries. Katya Volskaya herself had such an influence in Russia that getting her involved -- even by proxy -- with the new Overwatch could be a political disaster in the country that had so opposed the omnics. Winston had been opposed to the idea, but Angela had insisted she would be able to handle the matter discreetly.

Or so she’d thought.

As a foreigner in Russia, she had found that English was still barely spoken in the remote areas of the vast country. She had picked up a few lines of Russian herself, but as it turned out it was only enough to ask for vague directions or buy train tickets. Angela’s journey had already taken twice as long as planned, and even though she had many times wanted to return home, she still pressed on. This was personal.

She had found a nice young man, Anton, to be her guide and translator, and with his help Angela had finally found what she had come looking for. With the directions scrawled on a small piece of paper, Angela made her way down the streets. It felt strange to walk in a town where not a single omnic was seen; not even any anti-omnic propaganda visible, unlike in the large cities.

Angela clutched her jacket to shield from the sharp wind after turning a corner into a narrow one-way street. She had known autumn in Russia could be cold, but she hadn’t quite expected this. Of course, the polite Dr. Mei-Ling Zhou had tried advising her, but at the time Angela just thought she was overly exaggerating the matter. 

“Dear Mei, I should have listened to you…” Angela muttered under her breath and held her jacket closer. Luckily, she needed not go any further. A brazenly neon sign of a muscular man lifting weights flashed in front of her, pointing to the entrance of an otherwise hidden door. At first she wasn’t sure if she should knock or simply open the door, but another gust of wind made the decision for her and she rushed inside.

The gym was a large, open area with various equipment, of which most were in use by men and women who could easily challenge Reinhardt in armwrestling. Angela, in her lithe form, felt very much out of place there. She tried to keep her nose from wrinkling from the pungent smell of sweat in the air as she scanned the room with her eyes. 

There was a grunt from her side and Angela startled just slightly. A buff, blond haired man was standing beside her and demanded something in Russian. She could only make out a few words, and assumed, partly by his body language, that he was asking what she was doing in a place like this.

“ _Izvineniya_ ,” she apologized and pulled out another piece of paper Anton had given her. She offered the piece to the man with a smile. 

The man grunted as he read what was written on it, then crumpled the note in his large palm. He gave a gesture towards a door on the other side of the room, then turned his back to her and walked back to his weights. Angela felt extremely self-conscious as she made her way to the door, but her spirits rose a few feet before the door once she heard the blaring 1980’s pop music coming from the other side.

She was at the right place.

_I'm saying all the things that I know you'll like,_

_Making good conversation._

The familiar beat of an old classic began as she opened the door. An equally familiar figure was on her back bench pressing weights so heavy Angela had to wonder how that was even physically possible. The woman seemed to not notice her at all, and continued her lifting with grunts.

Angela gave a little cough to announce her entrance, but it was easily drowned by the music coming from the player next to the door. She gave a sigh, moved to the player and hit pause.

_There's nothing left to talk about_

_‘Less it's-_

The woman stopped her presses, got up and grimly walked to the player only to turn the music back on.

_Horizontally!_

She barely made eye-contact with Angela, and had already turned to go back to her training when Angela persistently turned the music off again.

“Aleksandra.” She stated very firmly with a nod of her head.

Angela could feel how the muscular woman gave a little sigh before turning around finally to face her. “Angela,” she replied in a thick Russian accent, “put back my music. And don’t call me Aleksandra.”

Aleksandra was almost a head taller than her, but Angela found her no less intimidating than Lena Oxton.

“I have something to discuss with you, _Zarya_. You can have your music if I can have my discussion,” Angela kept her eyes pinned onto Aleksandra’s. Sweat was running down from her pink hair and onto her forehead.

For a moment they were caught up in a standstill, both of them staring intensely at the other. It was Aleksandra who finally scoffed and turned, admitting her defeat.

“Fine!”

Angela smirked as she watched Aleksandra walk back to her bench and continue with the presses. She pressed “play” on the player but tuned the music volume down so that they could actually hear each other talk.

_Let's get physical, physical!_

_I wanna get physical!_

She took off her coat; the sweaty and moist air was making it too hot to keep it on anymore. However, the fact that she had a full-sleeved turtleneck underneath didn’t make her feel any better. To give herself some ease she picked up her hair and tied it into a ponytail.

_Let me hear your body talk, your body talk!_

_Let me hear your body talk!_

Angela took a few steps closer to Aleksandra. She had to admire the mental fortitude of the woman. Not many people would keep such a rigid training schedule. It seemed like it hadn’t changed once throughout the years. Only the amount of weight increased. She ran her fingers absentmindedly against the equipment and watched for a few pushes.

Aleksandra, annoyed by Angela’s gaze, put back the weights on the holder and sat up. “So are you going to just watch or did you have something to say?”

“Aleksandra,” Angela began, but was quickly interrupted with a sharp reminder from the bodybuilder to call her _Zarya_. “Zarya, then.” She folded her arms against her chest. “Have you heard of the affairs happening in the world recently?”

“Of course! I’m not illiterate. Those metal scrap bodies are resurging!” She laid back and continued with the presses. This time it seemed like she was venting her anger at the weights, so aggressively did she keep pushing them up and down.

“You are still very angry about it all, I see…” Angela gave an overdramatic sigh. “I- _we_ want to correct that. Do things the right way this time.”

“Who is… this we... you talk about?” Aleksandra managed to ask between her presses.

“I know you’re not stupid, and I know you have a good idea of what I’m talking about.”

“I. Do not. Want. _Anything_. To do with Overwatch.” Her set was done, and Aleksandra got up to sit once again. “You know that, Angela.”

Angela pushed up her glasses and moved a step closer to the weary athlete. She put her hand gently against Aleksandra’s cheeks. “I know you don’t. And I wish you could see this situation as I do. We’ve learned from our mistakes. We want to try again. No, we’re not just trying. This time we _will_ do it. But we can’t do it alone. We need people like you, Aleksandra. _I_ need you to join.”

Angela leaned down and gave a light kiss on Aleksandra’s forehead.

“I don’t want old animosities to cloud your thinking. This world has changed, for the better and worse. And I know you could do some real good in the future. For Russia and her people, for the world.” She paused and looked straight into the emerald eyes. “You can be a part of it. Together, we can save the world!”

She wasn’t sure if Aleksandra was blushing, or if it was just the heat from the training rising to her cheeks. Aleksandra’s eyes averted her gaze, and she was clearly confused of the situation. The tough exterior was cracking.

“Angela…” she muttered, “you give me no mercy, do you?”

Angela gave a little laugh, not letting go of Aleksandra’s cheeks.

“I could… perhaps… discuss this over dinner?”

“ _Wunderbar!_ ” Angela finally released her hands and made a quick twirl. “I would love nothing more than to learn of your hometown, Aleksandra! So, dinner tonight? It will be just like old times!” She clapped her hands together in joy.

Aleksandra was taken aback by the question. Her gaze was on the floor in embarrassment. But finally she lifted it to meet Angela’s. A genuine smile was on her face. “For old times’ sake, _friend_.”

_Let's get physical, physical!_

_I wanna get physical!_

_Let's get into physical!_

_Let me hear your body talk, your body talk,_

_Let me hear your body talk..._


End file.
